Know My Name: A Memoir

Miller describes herself throughout her memoir as someone who does not like to ask for help. She attempts to power through the mental turmoil following her sexual assault by continuing to call the victimized part of herself Emily. She reflects on how she views these fragile parts of herself negatively. She admits, “I did not like her fragility, how quietly she spoke and seemed to know nothing. I knew she was hungry for nourishment, to be acknowledged and cared for, but I refused to recognize her needs” (53). Despite recognizing this need for care, Miller attempts to live her normal life.

She prepares for the hearing by meeting with Alaleh, who warns that her every move from now until the trial will be carefully analyzed. Miller recognizes the injustice in this and, through a series of rhetorical questions, confronts the ways in which victims and not just their assailants are put on trial. Miller asks, “If I kept drinking, would the defense argue I was never affected? If I uploaded photos of myself smiling at a party, would the defense say I never suffered?” (57). Once again, Miller details how society disbelieves victims, making them feel responsible for the actions of their assailants. The level of scrutiny placed on Miller and on all victims adds to the already exhausting task of seeking justice.

Miller finally informs her boyfriend Lucas about her assault. He remains a constant figure of support throughout the process. In describing Lucas’s response, Miller describes how Lucas “planted himself” next to her in comfort (64). Grounded in his love and support for Miller, Lucas nurtures Miller’s independence while also paying witness to the deleterious effect her sexual assault has on her life and well-being. When Detective Kim questions her about her relationship with Lucas, she poses additional rhetorical questions that serve to highlight the inequality faced by female survivors. It is implied that Lucas’s role in Miller’s life adds to the weight of her case. In the eyes of society, having a boyfriend strengthens Miller’s counterargument to Turner’s claim that she consented. She therefore questions what happens “if you’re assaulted and you didn’t already belong to a male? Was having a boyfriend the only way to have your autonomy respected?” (66). Miller sees how such truths detract from the survivor-centered process she advocates for throughout her memoir.

As the chapter progresses, Miller grows increasingly disillusioned with the justice system. She is charged close to a thousand dollars for her hospitalization. She can only apply for restitution if her assailant is found guilty. Each new experience teaches Miller something new about the failures of the systems in place to protect survivors. She states, “I learned it was expensive to be assaulted” (68). She also learns about the backlog of rape kits, which delay the processing of her own by months. This backlog not only documents the prevalence of sexual assault in America but also highlights the failures of the system to process and prosecute offenders speedily and effectively—something that implies the criminal justice system does not view these cases as a priority.

She experiences this failure with her own case as she and her family are left in limbo while the hearing date is delayed repeatedly: “This was part of the madness of the system; the illusion of structure, plans never followed” (70). Miller’s choice of the word “madness” points to the illogical nature of this system that delays the prosecution of offenders and the healing of survivors. Her choice of the word “illusion” demonstrates the disconnect from the real consequences of such delays that survivors experience daily.

It is only after connecting with another survivor, her friend Claire, that Miller finds a renewed sense of purpose. Through Claire’s hopefulness, Miller recognizes the importance of what she is doing. She gets a glimpse of the greater impact she will make on other survivors like Claire who were denied their opportunity to pursue justice. In connecting with Claire, Miller comes to a deeper understanding of purpose that tells her “what [she] ha[s] to do […] what it mean[s]” (73).